Turning Point
by Alryssa
Summary: Season 2. Finally somewhat comfortable in her position as a mechanic in the Principal Office's maintenance bays, Robin suddenly finds herself confronted with a potentially life-altering decision...


Turning Point  
  
Set: Sometime after 'Gemini'. Early Season 2.  
  
  
  
  
*whirrr, click-click*.  
  
Pause.  
  
*Whirrrr, click-click-click*.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Robin paused work on the CPU's engine for a nano, the unfamiliar sound puzzling her. It was early, and she was the only individual in the maintenance bay at present. She listened for the sound again, ratchet in one hand, straightening up as much as the vehicle's hood would allow.  
  
*whirrrrrrrrr, click-click*  
  
She frowned, and peered out from beneath the CPU's hood in the direction of the noise.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
*whirrrrrr, click. whirrrr*.  
  
Robin looked around. There wasn't anyone here. But the noise was still there. It was startlingly regular; but at the same time somewhat erratic. It couldn't be machine-based, then, she rationalised. She moved out from beneath the vehicle's hood, ratchet still in hand as she straightened to her full height.  
  
"Who's there?"  
  
She didn't like this. Slowly, she moved, listening again for the noise. If this was some dumb-ascii joke...  
  
*whirrrrr, click-BEEP*.  
  
She started at the proximity of the noise coming - it appeared - from under her slightly raised foot. She moved back, and looked down.  
  
It was a keytool. She blinked. What in the 'Net...?  
  
*whirrrrrr, click-click, whirrrr. BEEP*.  
  
"Glitch?" She wasn't sure why Glitch would be here. Bob was probably back at his apartment catching some downtime between Games. There was no reason for Glitch to be here.  
  
*click-click, chatterwhirrrr*, it said, rather insistently. Robin shook her head at the keytool.  
  
"I don't understand," she said to it. Keytool language was understood only by those who had them; it required an exchange of code. She couldn't help feeling, however, that Glitch was trying to tell her something, and getting rather frustrated in the process.  
  
She put down the ratchet, knelt, and picked the keytool up in one hand. It repeated its last sequence, its cog spinning excitedly.  
  
"Glitch, stop that! I don't understand!" she shot back, irritatedly. The keytool made a rude noise. Robin narrowed her eyes at it. "Fine."  
  
She tucked the keytool in her belt, and left the garage to find Bob.  
  
  
* * *  
  
"There you are."  
  
Bob and Dot both looked up as Robin entered the Diner, their conversation interrupted.  
  
"Morning, Robin. What's processin'?"  
  
"Glitch decided to take a hike, apparently," she replied as she approached the booth. She removed the keytool from her belt, and handed it to Bob. It beeped at him. Dot looked confused.  
  
"I didn't think keytools could wander off at will," she said.  
  
Robin shrugged. "I guess they can. I found it in the garage a little while ago."  
  
Bob frowned as he looked at it for a moment. "Uh, Robin..."  
  
"What?"  
  
He raised his left arm. Glitch was in its usual place, settled on the Guardian's bracer. Dot blinked in surprise. Robin stared at Glitch, then at the other keytool.  
  
"Oh," she said, simply.  
  
"You found this?" He looked up at his twin, who shrugged.  
  
"Yeah. On the floor. I almost stepped on it. I thought Glitch had... I don't know... decided to play fetch, or something. It kept talking at me - " The keytool chittered and whirred, as if to prove its point, earning a scowl from Robin - "but I don't understand what it's saying."  
  
Dot leaned forward. "I thought all Guardians understood keytool language?"  
  
Robin's face darkened. "I'm not a Guardian, am I?" she shot back. Dot's eyes narrowed. Bob held up his free hand.  
  
"Robin..." he warned, looking directly at her. "Not now."  
  
She folded her arms, and sighed, not meeting his cool brown gaze. "Keytools exchange code with the Guardian they're partnered with," he continued. "That's how we understand each other."  
  
Dot nodded in comprehension. "I see. So where did it come from?" the Command.com asked of him. "Or maybe we should be asking, to whom does it belong?"  
  
The keytool whirred and chattered again, as if in response. Glitch butted in with a comment of its own. The two keytools conversed for a nano, then fell silent once more. Bob looked surprised.  
  
"Say what?" he asked. It repeated itself. Bob sat back, looking somewhat bemused. Robin put her hands on her hips, looking expectantly at him.  
  
"So?" she prodded, when he didn't respond. He set the keytool down on the tabletop, then gently pushed it back towards Robin. She frowned. "Bob -"  
  
"It's yours," he said simply.  
  
Dot's eyes widened. Robin stared at him.  
  
"You can't be serious."   
  
"That's what it said. It's yours."  
  
Her gaze slid to the keytool, then back to him. "I don't believe you."  
  
Bob held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not joking. I wouldn't joke about something like this, Robin. It's yours. Take it."  
  
Robin felt the two adult sprites looking at her, waiting for her to make the move and accept the strange keytool. They weren't, however, expecting her to back away from the booth and run out of the Diner - which was precisely what she did.  
  
Both of them jumped up from their seats.  
  
"Robin!" Bob yelled. "Spammit..." He looked at Dot.  
  
"Go on," she said. He needed no further prompting, and raced after her. Dot watched him go, then sat back in her seat, eyeing the strange keytool warily.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Bob caught up to Robin at the harbour. She was sitting at the end of a jetty, her head resting in her hands as she stared out at the energy sea. He stepped off his zipboard, compressing it as he approached.  
  
"Are you OK?" he asked, as he sat down beside her. She sighed, her gaze dropping.  
  
"It's a mistake, Bob. It has to be."  
  
"Keytools choose their Guardians, Robin. It's no mistake. It's chosen you."  
  
"But I'm not a Guardian!" she lashed out, brown eyes flashing. "I'm just a copy!"  
  
He shook his head. "Robin, being a Guardian is about more than having the protocols... it's about having the adaptability, the strength of personality to deal with anything the 'Net can throw at you - "  
  
"Bob, the last Game I was in, I almost got us all nullified! Forgive me for saying it, but I don't think that makes me Guardian material."  
  
"Robin, that wasn't your fault... you're inexperienced, and you froze - "  
  
"It's not just that. It's... I don't know, I - I've been trying so hard to... to be different..." She trailed off, gazing down.  
  
Bob thought he realised what she meant.  
  
"You think that by taking the keytool... you lose something that makes you different from me?"  
  
She didn't answer. She didn't need to.  
  
"I'm sorry you feel that way."  
  
"I don't deserve it. Just... tell it to go find a real Guardian. Someone who needs it. I don't need it. I don't want it."  
  
"This isn't about deserving. Keytools are intelligent. They choose their Guardians based not just on their protocols but on their potential. This one sees that in you. It's made a decision, and it wants to be joined with *you*. Nobody else. You."  
  
"It's stupid."  
  
"No," he said, somewhat more firmly than he'd intended. Her head snapped round, her brown eyes narrowed. "Look, when I... inherited... Glitch, I didn't think I deserved it, either. I was still a cadet, and I'd made a lot of mistakes. But... Glitch was more concerned about my future, not my past. And... now I'm a Guardian, and I'm making a difference, which is what I always wanted. We're partners. I guess I'm just trying to say... don't make a decision you might regret, Robin. This won't come again."  
  
Silence once more.  
  
"I need some time to think."  
  
Bob nodded, and stood. "You know where to find me," he said.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Bob glanced up instinctively from his energy shake as the Diner door opened, then visibly deflated somewhat, realising it wasn't who he was waiting for as the one binome wandered past the booth. Dot looked up at him from her organiser across the table and smiled.  
  
"You've been doing that for the past three micros, Bob. Relax."  
  
Bob looked sheepish. "I'm sorry. I - "  
  
"Worry, I know. Bob, it's a tough decision to make. She'll be back when and if she's ready, and not before."  
  
The keytool beeped, as if backing up Dot's statement. She raised an eyebrow at it, then shook her head and went back to her organiser. Bob nodded, vaguely, recalling the incident that had led to his inheritance of the keytool he was now partnered with, and his own self-doubts in those early cycles.  
  
"Uh, hey."  
  
Bob looked up, sharply, to see his doppelganger standing there. He hadn't even heard the door open this time. The keytool whirred in acknowledgement. Dot closed her organiser, and nodded a greeting.  
  
"Hey. You made up your mind?"  
  
Robin nodded, slowly, her expression difficult to read, her gaze moving to the keytool on the table. She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.  
  
"I... I'm sorry. I can't accept you," she said, addressing the keytool directly. Bob's heart sank. He knew she had the right to refuse, but it saddened him that she'd decided not to take it.  
  
The keytool buzzed loudly in frustration. Robin glowered at it. "Don't you get it? I'm not a Guardian, and I don't want to be a Guardian! Go find someone who deserves it! Someone who needs you! I *like* what I do. I like fixing cars. I've got no use for a keytool. Buzz off!"  
  
Silence. Robin suddenly became startlingly aware of the Diner's patrons looking at her. She glanced around, self-consciously, her gaze finally resting on Bob and Dot. She could see his disappointment, even though he was doing his best to hide it.   
  
"It's OK," he said, seeing her discomfort.   
  
"Whatever," she muttered, and turned to leave. She hated having her emotions put on public display like this. "I'll be in the maintenance bays."  
  
Bob sighed. Glitch chirruped, as if trying to cheer him up.  
  
Just as she reached the doors, a piercing shriek rang throughout the Diner. Everyone dropped what they were doing, clamping their hands to their ears.   
  
"What the..." Dot tried to shout over the noise, before she realised it was coming from the strange keytool. It then rose off the table, the sound rising sharply in pitch. Bob tried to make a grab for it, anticipating its motive, but it dodged him easily.  
  
"Robin!" he yelled above the din, hoping she'd react fast enough.  
  
Robin turned at the sound, her eyes widening as she caught a glimpse of something flying right at her face. She raised her arms in front of her face, reflexively. Too late, she realised the keytool had used the instinctive move against her. The sound stopped abruptly as it attached itself to her bracer.   
  
"Get off! Get off me!" she yelled, incensed, lowering her arm and attempting to forcibly remove the keytool with her other hand. The two sprites leapt up from their booth, and ran to assist. Dot grasped the keytool, pulling at it, but it refused to budge, chattering loudly in annoyance at her intervention.  
  
"I thought you said I had a choice!" Robin growled.  
  
"I wasn't lying! I've never seen this happen before!" Bob shot back. "Glitch! Separator!"   
  
The Guardian's keytool morphed, as Dot moved aside. As Glitch made contact with the other keytool, an energy jolt shot along its length, the sudden pain forcing Bob to pull Glitch away.   
  
"Ow!"   
  
"Bob, are you OK?"   
  
"I'm fine, Dot. Just an energy surge." He looked apologetically at his doppelganger, who returned it with a baleful expression. "It doesn't want to be messed with."  
  
The keytool made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snicker, its cog spinning. Robin's face then twisted into a grimace.  
  
"Agh! Stop that! Get off!"   
  
She grabbed at the keytool again, in an increasingly frustrated effort to remove it. "Ow! It hurts!"  
  
"It's exchanging code," Bob elaborated. "Once it does that -"   
  
"Maybe we should get you to the Principal Office," Dot suggested, turning to call up a vidwindow. "Phong, we - "  
  
Robin gasped as the pain abated, sagging against the door. The keytool beeped, as if in satisfaction. "Too late..." she mumbled, resignedly, trying to regain her composure.  
  
"Are you all right?" Dot asked. "Perhaps we should get you checked over, to be sure - "  
  
"No." The response was firm, a tone not to be argued with. Robin pushed off the doorframe, righting herself. Her expression was grim. "I'll be fine."   
  
The keytool whirr-clicked at her. "I don't *care* what your name is. I don't want you!" she shot back, a hint of desperation in her voice.  
  
"Robin, if it's any consolation - "  
  
"No, it isn't," she cut him off, pushing past him as she exited the Diner. She decompressed her zipboard, and headed back to the maintenance bays, leaving the two sprites in her wake.   
Dot shook her head as she watched the sullen depart. She glanced at Bob, who looked crestfallen.   
  
"Give it some time, Bob. She'll get used to it."  
  
"I feel bad. I told her she had a choice."  
  
"It's hardly your fault the thing had other ideas. Just let her be for a while."  
  
Bob nodded slowly. "I wish she'd believe in herself for a change. I think - "  
  
"Bob, it'll be OK. She'll adapt. It'll just take her a little while, that's all."   
  
The sky outside suddenly darkened.  
  
WARNING: INCOMING GAME. WARNING: INCOMING GAME.  
  
"Guess that's our cue," he said as he followed Dot out of the Diner, secretly welcoming the distraction. As the two headed towards the game cube, he caught a glimpse of his double, watching from a safe distance on her zipboard.   
  
----  
  
"Hey."  
  
Robin glanced up from her schedule of repairs on a datapad as Bob entered the maintenance bays. She scowled.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
He held up his hands defensively. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I do think Dot's idea of stopping by the medical facility is a good one, though - "  
  
"I'm *fine*," she said, through gritted teeth.   
  
There was an awkward silence for a few nanos.  
  
"It'll be OK, y'know."  
  
She shrugged. "I'll live, I guess."  
  
He sighed. "Just... please, try and see the good in this?"  
  
"Good in what? Being forced into having something I don't want? Don't deserve?"  
  
"It *chose* you. You may not think it, but you've got potential."  
  
Robin rolled her eyes. "As a mechanic, Bob. Not a Guardian."  
  
"You can be both!"  
  
"Spammit, I don't *want* to be both! I don't want to be anything! I just want to be left alone, and the entire Net seems to take it upon itself to make all my life's decisions for me and my every living second as miserable as possible! Get out of here!"  
  
She walked away, turned her back to him, before he could see the tears in her eyes.   
  
Bob stared at her back for a moment, before replying. "You just need to give life a chance, Robin. Maybe then it'd stop trying to kick you in the teeth."  
  
Silence again.   
  
"I'll see you round," he murmured.  
  
He left the empty maintenance bays, leaving Robin alone.  
  
  
-----  
  
Author's note -  
For those who care, Robin's picture can be seen here: http://home.earthlink.net/~mcganndoc/private/Robin3D1.jpg  
  
Full profile is at:  
http://glitchbob.tripod.com/robin.html  
  
Email me at: alryssa@panatropic.net. I don't bite. Unless provoked. ;) 


End file.
